


Lie Here, It's Safe Here

by ragingrainbow



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Brad "Cheeks" Bell RPF
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Kink Meme, M/M, Pain, Power Dynamics, Subspace, bottom!Adam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-11
Updated: 2011-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:41:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragingrainbow/pseuds/ragingrainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Awareness creeps back very slowly, and even though he’s used to it he knows that it would be a terrifying state without Brad’s guiding presence.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lie Here, It's Safe Here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChooseToLive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChooseToLive/gifts).



> Written for [this prompt](http://glam-kink.livejournal.com/1444.html?thread=2018980#t2018980) at glam_kink: sub!Adam. After a really intense scene (flogging? extreme penetration? idgaf) Adam's Dom has to spend some extra time caring for Adam afterward. Minor medical treatment, reassurance, anything that involves the Dom's very gentle and caring focus on Adam (physical and/or emotional). Aftercare is the focus.

Adam barely even flinches as the last lash lands across his bruised back, too far gone, floating in a place where the only thing he’s aware of is the blinding pain and Brad’s gentle, coaxing voice.

Adam’s limbs feel heavy, like they’re filled with lead, when Brad frees him. He focuses on the press of Brad’s smaller body against his side and Brad’s voice as Brad guides him onto his stomach on the bed. He can’t make out what Brad’s saying, everything’s so muddled, but his voice is steady and calming, like a lifeline that keeps Adam from getting lost in a sea of pain.

Awareness creeps back very slowly, and even though he’s used to it he knows that it would be a terrifying state without Brad’s guiding presence. But Brad’s there, and the first thing he becomes fully aware of is Brad’s hands on his body, gently searching out and soothing aching muscles, staying well clear of his back.

The second thing that starts to buzz back in are words, still not full sentences but scattered reassurances that he’s good and beautiful and okay and amazing and _safe_.

Adam manages an affirmative noise, just to let Brad know that he really is okay, and Brad’s touches become even more purposeful, tethering him, pulling him back towards the shore. He keeps his eyes closed, even though he knows the light will be turned low for him, he just needs a bit more time in the darkness, a bit more time in this place where he can just _be_.

Adam tenses a little when Brad’s hands leave him, one of Brad’s legs is still pressed against his thigh to keep the skin-on-skin contact he craves, but he knows what comes next, tries to brace his tired body against it.

“Relax Adam, just breathe for me, baby, you’re alright, just relax...” Brad’s voice is as much a caress as the hand that settles on his neck again, rubbing slow circles into clammy skin.

Adam hears the whine escape him before he’s even aware that he’s forming it. He hates, and loves, this part; in a way he feels more vulnerable like this than he does immobilized with the heavy leather of the flogger kissing his back. The bonds give him something to struggle against, the sharp pain of the whip jolts him away from his thoughts, makes it impossible to focus on himself.

The aftermath is so, so different. His body may be heavy but it’s not immobile, he _could_ move if he wanted to, but he doesn’t, and it’s that willful submission that leaves him feeling more exposed. And then there’s the dull throb of the abused expanse of his back, the sting of the alcohol that’s not enough to keep him from his thoughts.

He’s crying again without realizing it, his body trembling with quiet sobs, tears rolling heavy and wet across his cheeks. Brad’s still talking, gentle praise that washes over him; familiar, reassuring, _cleansing_.

“That’s it, baby, let go, just let go, I’ve got you.”

And Adam does, he doesn’t have the strength left to keep himself together now anyway, his seams have been frayed for too long and everything that has happened tonight has provided enough pressure to burst them completely. And Brad’s there, just like he said, makes quick work of cleaning and dressing Adam’s back before he lies beside him, pulls Adam close and lets Adam cling to him.

Adam cries for a long while, for everything and nothing, just letting out all the stress and fear and frustration of the past few weeks, _everything_ bad, letting himself break into pieces because he knows Brad will be able to put it all back together. He always does.

Everything seems very silent when his tears and sobs finally stop; for a moment all he hears is his own hiccuping breath and Brad’s calm one, and he concentrates on Brad’s breathing, tries to make his own match it.

Brad’s hand is carding through his hair, and Adam finally starts to feel the peace from around them settle within him as well, and he shifts a little, blinks his eyes open to look at Brad’s smiling face. His own lips automatically twitch into a smile in response.

“Hey,” he whispers, his voice so wrecked that he can barely even force the tiny word out.

“Hi there,” Brad says, still talking so, so softly, his fingers ghosting across Adam’s face. “Think you can sit up for me, baby? Drink some water?”

Adam nods, tho it’s still difficult to move, _everything_ aches, but Brad’s sure hands are there to steady him, and together they get Adam’s uncooperative body propped back against the soft pillows. Adam whimpers softly when the slight pressure flares new pain across his back, and Brad hushes him, kisses his face and reassures him again that he’s being so, so good.

Adam opens his mouth obediently when Brad holds two pills out for him, he’s never really liked taking painkillers but Brad insists because if he doesn’t take them the pain will wake him up once the endorphin rush wears off completely, and Adam needs to sleep through the night. And right now Adam accepts that Brad knows best, is still happy to trust Brad to take care of him, because Brad has never failed him.

Adam tries to reach for the glass with his own shaking hand, but Brad bats it away, carefully, because they both know from experience that if Adam tries to hold it he’ll end up having most of the water all over himself. Still, Adam always tries, it’s just another step towards coming back to himself, and the way Brad gently admonishes him before pressing the straw to Adam’s lips is just another way for him to guide Adam, to slow Adam’s pace when Adam tries to come back too quickly.

Brad pets his hair while he drinks, reminds him to go slow, asks him if he’s had enough when he releases the straw. When Adam nods Brad puts the glass away and gets the damp washcloth, wipes it over Adam’s face in soothing motions, cleans away the sweat and residual tears.

“There we go, baby, let’s get you under the covers, hm?”

Adam’s body doesn’t ache quite as much anymore, but it’s sleep-heavy now, and he’s still glad to have Brad’s hands helping him. There is a temporary loss of contact once he’s settled, with Brad needing to clean himself off and turn out the lights, and Adam drifts a little without Brad anchoring him, feels everything lose its clarity for a few moments.

Brad comes back quickly, as if he senses Adam’s discomfort - and Adam guesses that he probably does - slides into bed beside him, holds him and kisses his hair and whispers a few more words of praise and love.

Adam tries to tell Brad that he loves him, but he’s quite sure all that comes out is an unintelligible murmur. Brad seems to understand anyway, pulls him a little closer and kisses his cheek and tells him to sleep. And Adam does, wrapped in and around Brad’s familiar body, warm and content and completely safe.


End file.
